A Madness Most Discreet
by Arcada A
Summary: Brooklyn had orders to convert the enemy to Vampirism. But something went wrong. Who he bit was human, if the council find out they’ll kill her. Now he’ll do whatever it takes to protect her, even if that means death. [AUOC]
1. Awakening

Warnings: This fan fiction pertains to darker, mature themes. There shall be blood, gore, swearing, conspiracy, death, angst, and all that other good stuff.

Disclaimer: I own Arista Dymitri Belyaev. Takao Aomi owns the concept of the spinning tops, and all such related indicia.

Plot: Brooklyn had orders to convert the enemy to Vampirism. But something went wrong, there was a flaw in the seemingly perfect plan. Who he bit was human, if the council find out they'll kill her. Now he'll do whatever it takes to protect her, even if that means death. Just how far will he have to go?

On the other hand, the council is threatened to fall apart when Voltaire kills Dickenson, the leader of all supernatural beings. Now he's the big cheese, and that means big changes are in store. Something sinister is going on because Voltaire was somehow connected to the faults in the Perfect plan. If anyone discovers this, he'll personally kill them. Maybe Arista isn't all she seems to be.

Add to that the vampires who rebel against Voltaire. Things take a nasty turn when all hell breaks loose.

A Madness Most Discreet

Prologue: Awakening

Arista walked along on the slippery sidewalk. She was oblivious to the world around her, being too immersed in the flashes of lightening that streaked across the sky. She shivered inwardly as the cool air of the night bustled all around her. Unconsciously she quickened her steps just a little bit. A car whizzed by her on the street, lights flaring, splashing water on her, thus resulting in many obscenities being muttered from the Russian female.

She turned her head away from the stark light. Lightning flashed, thunder rumbled. She grinned; this was her sort of night. Dark, wet, and of course, stormy. She had always been interested in storms, mostly because they were beautiful to watch. Just hearing the thunder roar gave her an incredible feeling. Or how the lightening followed, flashing and giving the effect that it was on fire. Perhaps it was the way that the rain collided head on with the ground, making pitter-patter sounds. Whatever it was, she was definitely captivated by it.

She wiped rainwater from her eyes and scrunched her nose. A sudden drop in the temperature had her involuntarily shuddering from the nape of her neck to the very end of her spine. Pulling her toque tighter over her head, she unfolded the sleeves of her oversized sweater, carefully slipping her hands into her pockets afterwards.

Checking both ways before crossing the street she rounded the curb only to be plunged into darkness. The streetlamps were all put out, not a single one aglow. She sighed but continued on. The light from the storm would be her guide even if it was just an occasional flicker every now and then.

As she walked past an alleyway, someone grabbed at her. Her hands, instinctively balled into fists, struck out at the unknown.

A single pair of hands pinned her against the wall. While one hand held her arms in a vice-like grip above her head, the other hand turned her face to the side, leaving the pale, shimmery skin on her neck exposed. She struggled in vain as she was rendered immobile in the vice-like grip of her captor.

A cloud of darkness seemed to settle all around her. Dazed and confused, she struggled to breathe. Her breathing was laboured and tense coming out in sharp, frigid gasps.

"Let me go!" she screamed.

Wincing at the ever-increasing pain fast becoming known to her body, she kicked with one foot and balanced herself on the other. Arista struck out blindly, never making contact to anything solid. She felt sick, her stomach churned uneasily, her gut clenched. The putrid smells in the alley alone made her want to vomit. All around her was the rancid stink of death, putrefying her nostrils.

_What was going on?_

She heard a whisper of someone saying something, but she couldn't make out what was being said. All she could feel was the warm, hot breath on her neck. It was scaring her, and she yelped when fangs sunk into her skin.

Teeth sunk into the soft, vulnerable flesh of her neck. Navy amber-flecked eyes glazed over before rolling back into their sockets. Drops of blood scattered around the female. Dilated pupils fought the urge to go lax and sleep.

Arista's body went limp for a few seconds before she reopened her eyes and stared into moss green orbs narrowed at her. She squirmed under the gaze, immobilized again. The alley wall was supporting her body. A light shone in the distance, illuminating both figures. The darkness crept out being overpowered by the light. Shadows came alive, casting eerie silhouettes.

_Was this some kind of a joke?_

Her vision was hazy, but she could still see the figure in front of her. A mass of ginger red hair surrounded a sinfully angelic face. Moss green eyes widened just a bit, turning a shade of light cloudy blue. Smooth, creamy skin, although deathly pale, appeared to be moist from the rain. She realized it was a he now. She took in his soft lips, and nose. The angle of his face and the spikes in his hair. Half of it was dulled by water and hung down over his forehead.

She was downing in an empty feeling. In a way it was euphoric. Her body was so numb that she couldn't feel anything. Any movements she made reflected on her body by making her skin tingle.

_This was just a dream. It would be over soon._

Everything moved in frames. She had a vague idea of what was going on but the big picture was one giant blur. A stinging sensation made her whip her head around. Bad idea she thought, cursing her judgment.

He let go of her hands; she lowered them to her neck and placed them there. Warmth seeped into her again, blocking out the deadening cold. She could feel the blood pounding inside her. Her heart throbbed in place, beating erratically, her gaze never wavering from his.

She opened her mouth to speak but no words came out, so instead she ran her tongue around her lips, closed her mouth. After swallowing saliva she reopened her mouth. Her voice came out barely a murmur.

"What did you do?"

Her eyes, although glassy, were somewhat focused on him. He squinted his own eyes as if he was searching into her soul. Not obtaining the information that he had wanted, he pushed her body flush against his own in a somewhat violent gesture. It seemed as though he was annoyed or bothered by something.

"To whom is your allegiance bound?" It wasn't so much a question as it was a simple inquiry. His voice cruised over Russia picking up subtle hints of America.

Arista closed her eyes, sighing into him since she was pinned between the alley wall and his body. Her breath was cold on his chest, sending small tremors down his spine. He moved back about a quarter of an inch not wanting to breathe her scent in too much. He was tempted enough as it was with the blood dripping down her neck, he didn't need any other distractions. This was taking too much time already.

Looking over her profile he noticed she was small, short and skinny. She stood a good six inches less at least compared to him. Confused navy orbs stared at him; partly lidded by lashes long and dark. He frowned. Wet, silver hair was streaked with black, tied together in a ponytail. He pushed her bangs out of her face, tucking them behind her ear.

No, this was not her at all. This girl was _human_.

Arista felt the touch of his bloodied hand on her skin and was shocked to find it freezing cold. She gave a shudder, leaning father back into the alley wall, dreading the possibility that he might kill her.

Arista nearly sighed at hearing his voice. He put his hands on her shoulders trying to catch her pulse. He lowered one of his hands to hers, holding it tightly.

He softly rubbed small circles around her wrists trying to locate the diminishing pulse. It was paining her to look at him. Her eyes were giving in on her. She knew words could not explain what she was feeling. It was an out-of-body experience, there _were_ no words to describe something like this.

Jerkily, he pulled her close to him, and jumped straight up onto the rooftop. He stood there with her limp body in his hands. He _could_ just leave her there, no one would be the wiser. But, he decided, he'd take her along. He felt drawn to her somehow. Perhaps it was because he'd just bitten her, but whatever it was he knew he would regret it terribly if he just left her there to die. She was his in a way because he had caused this. Something about her was off. Something was oh so very wrong. He was going to find out. And when he did, he would face the consequences of what he'd done.

In the meantime, he jumped onto a second rooftop and held her close to him. Arista didn't care where he took her, she could hardly keep her eyes open. If breathing wasn't a necessity she would have stopped a long time ago. Her lungs ached with the feeling of compression, it felt like there was a fire or heat being smothered inside her.

Underneath them the city lights flashed and burned. Every time he took a jump towards the next rooftop she felt a nauseating feeling in the pit of her stomach. Hoping she wouldn't fall she clung onto him with the little strength she still had.

_This was all a dream, when she woke up she would be at home. In her bed, in her warm, safe bed. She'd wake up and go watch cartoons. Then laugh about this later. She would wake up from this nightmare._

Yet a small tiny voice begged to differ with her. Her brain was muddy, tired. She couldn't shake off the feeling that this was real. That it wasn't a dream, or a nightmare. It was real and there was no way out.


	2. Destruction

Warnings: This fan fiction pertains to darker, mature themes. There shall be blood, gore, swearing, conspiracy, death, angst, and all that other good stuff.

Disclaimer: I own Arista Dymitri Belyaev. If you want to borrow her, ask first. Amber Marie Benson belongs to Zadien, as does Morrigan 'Ruin' Mulryan. Ask first or you'll have to deal with her anger. Shahero Kaeto is the property of Coors and Bobby, her inanimate hockey stick. Miyami Kinomiya is the brilliant creation of ChibiTari/Unlucky-Star/Sombrero/Sun-thief. Sonia is the sole property of SpitfireSae, and Aspin Grant is owned by none other than Animerle. Takao Aomi owns the concept of the spinning tops, all original characters, and all such related indicia.

Plot: Brooklyn had orders to convert the enemy to Vampirism. But something went wrong, there was a flaw in the seemingly perfect plan. Who he bit was human, if the council find out they'll kill her. Now he'll do whatever it takes to protect her, even if that means death. Just how far will he have to go?

On the other hand, the council is threatened to fall apart when Voltaire kills Dickenson, the leader of all supernatural beings. Now he's the big cheese, and that means big changes are in store. Something sinister is going on because Voltaire was somehow connected to the faults in the Perfect plan. If anyone discovers this, he'll personally kill them. Maybe Arista isn't all she seems to be.

Add to that the vampires who rebel against Voltaire. Things take a nasty turn when all hell breaks loose.

A Madness Most Discreet

If You Touched My Heart

Chapter One: Destruction

Pain rushed through her veins, sending cool chills down her spine. Whatever he had done to her, it was making it's effects apparent now. Arista's body rocked with the pain that flooded through her in torrents.

Make it stop, just… make it stop.

Tremors ran through her, leaving her feeling weak and small. So very small. What on Earth and beyond was happening to her?

Her eyes dilated, rolling back in their sockets. Agonizingly slow and painful. She was in a room, stark white and raped of any colour. A single light flickered on and off in the centre of the ceiling, causing her head to ache. Arista was left to face four walls, all of which hurt to look at. So she closed her eyes, finding little comfort in the darkness.

What little warmth was in her body had escaped during the convulsions. She rocked back and forth with her hands around her knees, hugging them. Her head lay in her lap, hair spilling forward in a tangle of silver, black-streaked locks. Her face was tired, and sullen. Bags with shadows deep enough to fall in were under her eyes. And her eyes, they were distant and weary, the navy melded with the amber flecks, leaving a mixture of the two colors in it's wake.

Her body was limp and tired. How long she had been in there she didn't know. What she did know was that she wanted to get away. Run somewhere, anywhere. Just to get away from this place. Her jeans were hanging loosely on her current form, while her clover-green t-shirt clung to her, moist with sweat. Her lips were closed in a firm line, giving the expression of detest.

She rocked back and forth, willing it all away but to no avail. Wherever she was, she was stuck there until someone let her go.

--

Brooklyn couldn't bear to watch the scene unfold, so he turned away. Eyes looking to the ground in feigned interest. It was his fault that she was in there. All his fault that an Innocent was now converting to Vampirism. Why did he have to be assigned to take on the Lycanthrope?

Because he was good at what he did, he reminded himself.

Still, there were others. Like Hitoshi, Mystel, or Kai. Hell, there were plenty more able-bodied Vampires that could have taken on the task. But it was narrowed down to him. _Of all the people,_ he sighed.

Although she couldn't see out from inside the small room, others could see in from outside. A small rectangular window, outlined with metal, framed the outside of one of the walls. So whatever happened in there, he would be able to see in. Except he didn't want to because it just told him how much of a failure he was.

Losing himself in his thoughts, Brooklyn stood contemplatively, thinking about the possible punishments he would have to face for his actions. He just couldn't understand where he had gone wrong. What he had done wrong. Nothing sprang to mind, so he inwardly cursed himself for his stupidity.

The Chief, a.k.a. Kenny, ran a scan on the human. So far all of his data had led him to believe that she was just a normal, ordinary girl. There was nothing particularly special about her, nothing that sparked any interest. Yet, why was she then, the one in the room? Why was it not the enemy? He re-read the screen on his laptop until his eyes were sore.

He rubbed them in hopes of stalling the oncoming headache. When he lowered his hands, the brown fringe of hair reclaimed his forehead. He didn't want to believe that Arista Dymitri Belyaev wasn't all his faithful laptop claimed to be. But how could he trust his the facts when his gut was telling him that she was in that room for a reason. That she was there because someone wanted her there whether she liked it or not.

He turned his gaze towards the window and looked through it to see her rocking back and forth in a corner. He remembered when he had been there. It was scary and he didn't want to relive the feeling. Instead he made a hard copy of the file on Arista and waited for it to finish printing.

When it was all done he laid it on the tabletop for Brooklyn without a word, then turned and literally ran out of there with his laptop clutched under his arm.

Brooklyn took no notice, still lost in his thoughts. Only to be snapped back to reality when a scream pierced through his ears.

Shivers ran down his spine, resting in the pit of his stomach. He glanced into the room through the window, and just as he'd suspected, he saw what he'd created. The monster he'd awakened inside of someone previously immaculate.

Jesus Christ on a unicycle, he thought. What was he supposed to do now? He had never experienced the pain of being bitten. After all, he was _born_ a Vampire, descendant of the Adams clan. His mother and father, part of the Council, were from a long blood-line of Vampires. So obviously he carried down the tradition.

He had never felt the pain of being bitten, nor had he ever wanted to. He raised his eyes heavenwards, only to resume watching the female.

--

Arista screamed until her throat was sore and hoarse. Until she couldn't breathe so she had to put her head between her knees and gasp for the air that she so desperately needed. Never had she felt so much excruciating pain.

She couldn't even begin to fathom the ache in her body if she'd wanted to. Her head spun, and her vision blurred. Sure she'd had a few broken bones, some scrapes and cuts, but never anything this bad.

When she caught her breath, she closed her eyes so tightly that they throbbed with raw hurt. She was rapidly losing her strength and felt the need to scream again, to be heard and gone from this prison. Her insides battled to stay awake.

But all she wanted to do was sleep. To just sleep and not wake up until this was over, until she could wake up in her warm, safe bed at home. All she wanted was to just go home...

--

Amber paled at the news that Tala told her. Her whiskey eyes widened when the name of her friend came up. It was one thing for Brooklyn to have screwed up, but not this much. She listened intently while he spoke the words that battered around her heart like a hammer.

This wasn't supposed to happen. How did it happen anyways, she wondered. Brooklyn was good at keeping things under control, so what had happened? Poor Arista, she thought.

Her friends meant the world to her, if any one of them got hurt she'd get revenge. But she couldn't get back at Adams without facing consequences, one of them being if the council found out. They frowned upon domestic fights and such. Since they practically lived together in one big mansion, it was considered domestic in their eyes.

To take her mind off the anger that simmered in her blood stream, she turned her eyes to Tala's. His hair was parted and spiked on either side, sticking out in two odd red angles. Two single bangs framed his face. The blood red of his hair stood out against his pale skin like the brightest rubies. His gorgeous turquoise eyes were swimming with emotions. Having dated Arista, however long ago, he cared a lot about her and hated to see her, or any of his friends, hurt. His soft lips were curved in a scowl. If Amber didn't give Brooklyn a good punch or four, he was sure to pick up the slack. Tala Valkov was handsome, no doubt about that.

Amber gave a sympathetic smile, understanding exactly what her friend since childhood was going through. The Parallel world was a messy place. She didn't want to drag her friends into it. Ruin was a vampire as well. Amber's eyes turned to meet with the dark chocolate of the said girl.

Ruin stood, her arms crossed over her chest. She was dressed in all black. A black t-shirt that framed her form, black jean pants with a thick skull-studded belt holding them up. Around her neck was a black choker. Her black hair was streaked with red and blue, catching the light and glinting. Even her shoes were black, Amber noticed. The gothic females face was expressionless, her mouth set in a grim line. Her charcoal brown eyes fixed on a point just above Amber's shoulder. Ruin's angular face was covered in creamy skin, her hair cropped barely above her shoulder. Her face was unreadable but Amber knew her better than that. Deep down Ruin loved her friends just as much as she herself did.

Amber sighed just as Kai entered the room. His face was calculating, making her wonder just what he had been doing. His hair was wind-swept, cheeks coated with the slightest layer of a pink tinge. He frowned when he saw the looks on the faces of the teenagers. Yeah, he thought to himself, they knew what had happened. He was dressed casually in his trademark black t-shirt and dark jeans.

"Let's go." Tala broke the silence like a whip cracking.

Amber nodded, got up. Ruin didn't say anything but left the room. Tala followed her shortly after grabbing his keys from the table in the living room.

Kai watched them go then turned his eyes to Amber. She was already up and walking. She brushed by him catching the subtle musky scent of him. She would never admit it to anyone living or dead, but she liked it. Just like she liked him.

They dashed out of the house not bothering to lock it behind them. Amber slid into the back seat of Tala's car, closing the door after her. Kai slipped in through the other side. Ruin, having gotten there first, was in the front passenger seat. Tala jammed the keys into the key slot and slammed his foot on the accelerator.

The red-head drove alarmingly fast, not that it entirely mattered though. Being supernatural sure had it's advantages. If they got into a car crash they would get a few bruises and cuts, suffer some blood loss but nothing too serious, as the wounds would heal themselves.

--

Arista lay limp and lifeless, staring at the ceiling. The pain had stopped, leaving her feeling wilted. It hurt to think, it even hurt to move. She concentrated on just breathing. Staying alive. Her inert eyes were glued to the square shapes on the tiles that lined the ceiling.

In fact, every time she exhaled or inhaled, her lungs ached. Her brain felt like it had been shut off entirely. Her throat was sore, her body ached and she felt so tired. Like the energy had been drained from her.

She blinked weakly, her eyelashes fluttering open and closed. A buzzing rang through her ears, echoing in a high pitch. She clasped her hands over her ears to make it stop but it didn't. It kept on ringing, getting louder with every second.

And then… _Pop_!

And it stopped so suddenly that she felt like her eardrums had burst. What was going on? Her heartbeat quickened, her pulse getting thicker. Slowly she lowered her hands and propped herself on her elbows. When she felt she could support herself she got up in a sitting position and crossed her legs Indian-style.

She felt strangely alive. A new energy burned within her, feeding her hunger until it was sated, but it wasn't enough. Even then she still fed on it, feeling better than she had in weeks. She leaned back into the corner of the room and took a few deep breaths, soothing her frayed nerves.

Arista opened her eyes to find the walls dimmer than they had been and her eyes adjusting to the whiteness. A single silhouette of a person was shadowed in what was a window at first glance.

Had they been watching her?

Had they seen her suffer?

Anger formed inside of her, giving her blind, raw power that flooded her veins. She got up and walked, ignoring the way her blood quickened and raced again. Her eyes were narrowed into tiny slits, luminous in the dim light.

Her mouth was formed in a grim line, her hair spread out on her shoulders. Someone was going to be in a world of pain if no one explained what was going on.

When she reached the window she caught the surprised look on the male behind the glass.

But she didn't care. She raised her arm to strike down the barrier between them so she could punch his lights out. She took a swing at the glass, it cracked but didn't shatter. She aimed again and this time a loud crack like lightening, was heard.

The glass exploded into tiny pieces, scattering on the floor in shards. Hundreds of tiny pieces were everywhere. Arista lowered her bloody hand to her side, strangely enough, it hadn't hurt much. All she'd felt was a stinging sensation and that was it. She didn't care to notice however, there was a much more important task at hand.

The male in front of her took a step back, like he hadn't been expecting this. Arista inwardly snorted.

_Yeah, watch me suffer and look all innocent._

"Uh, uh, uh." She rose her good hand and waved a finger side to side. "I don't think so buddy."

Before Brooklyn could blink she was on him. She kicked and sent him flying into the wall. Before he could register what had happened, she had punched his gut and given him an upper-cut to his jaw.

Arista smirked now, this was too easy but so much fun. She grabbed a bunch of his ginger hair and yanked his face down to hers. The look in his eyes had her faltering, but she regained her posture and hissed venomously.

"Too bad, so sad." She whispered, barely audible.

And with that she let go of him, only to kick him in the groin, then punch him twice. One punch landed on his eye, while the other on his chest. He wasn't even trying to fight back.

And that only fueled the inferno inside of her. If he'd watched her go through all that pain and not do anything, well, he had another thing coming.

He was on the floor, hunched over. Breath coming in fast, ragged gasps. She lowered herself towards him and elbowed his back, strong and hard.

Brooklyn ignited with fiery pain. It was so intense that it felt like it had swallowed him up, chewed him, then spit him out. Then swallowed him again, to be regurgitated. His body ached, and he was bleeding, sore with bruises and cuts.

Glass crunched around him as he realized that the female was still angry with him. She didn't understand that if he'd intervened that he could have gotten them both killed. What difference did it make now though? They both hurt too much anyways, that it would have been better were they dead already.

A blow to his head had his vision slightly foggy. A second blow to his torso this time had brought out the urge to fight back. But still he resisted. He would just wait out her anger... if he could last that long without striking back, he thought.

Arista picked him up by the neck of his shirt, and slammed him against the wall. The sheer strength had Brooklyn rethinking his decision. If she was that strong, then would it matter if he gave her a punch or two? He didn't hit females, but this was getting out of hand. He could feel himself losing consciousness.

Arista elbowed him in his stomach, and punched his other eye. His left one closed from the pain. The beast within him exploded, and awakened. His eyes narrowed into tiny slits of emerald, glinting with something not quite human. His teeth were bared ferally, showing off the pointed tips. His balance returned to him and he regained control of his body. It was infuriating his beast to have been caged in for so long, so now it was going to take vengeance with it's fury. Brooklyn growled low and deep in throat, awakening his inner Vampire.

Someone was going to pay dearly.

He grasped at Arista's hand and held her wrist in an iron grip, she struggled but found out it was pointless when he only squeezed harder. A numbness spread through her wrist, past her elbow and crawled up her spine. Anger, at being denied punishing him, was rapidly increasing, she raised her other hand to scratch at his hand, but his voice stopped her dead in her tracks.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." He licked his lips as he watched the blood trickle out from the fresh wounds he'd inflicted on her previously undaunted skin.

He leaned in close to her, his eyes narrowing to slivers, his mouth hovering by her ear.

"Are you scared yet?"


	3. Paranoid

Warnings: This fan fiction pertains to darker, mature themes. There shall be blood, gore, swearing, conspiracy, death, angst, and all that other good stuff.

Disclaimer: I own Arista Dymitri Belyaev. If you want to borrow her, ask first. Amber Marie Benson belongs to Zadien, as does Morrigan 'Ruin' Mulryan. Ask first or you'll have to deal with her anger. Takao Aomi owns the concept of the spinning tops, all original characters, and all such related indicia.

Plot: Brooklyn had orders to convert the enemy to Vampirism. But something went wrong, there was a flaw in the seemingly perfect plan. Who he bit was human, if the council find out they'll kill her. Now he'll do whatever it takes to protect her, even if that means death. But just how far will he have to go?

On the other hand, the council is threatened to fall apart when Voltaire kills Dickenson, the leader of all supernatural beings. Now he's the big cheese, and that means big changes are in store. Something sinister is going on because Voltaire was somehow connected to the faults in the Perfect plan. If anyone discovers this, he'll personally kill them. Maybe Arista isn't all she seems to be.

Add to that the vampires who rebel against Voltaire. Things take a nasty turn when all hell breaks loose.

A Madness Most Discreet

If You Touched My Heart

Chapter Two: Paranoid

_--_

_Meeting is such sorrow, as someday we'll have to part._

_Hush now, don't speak or you will bring down my heart._

--

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." He licked his lips as he watched the blood trickle out from the fresh wounds he'd inflicted on her previously undaunted skin.

He leaned in close to her, his eyes widening to slivers, his mouth hovering by her ear.

"Are you scared yet?"

--

Arista's breath hitched as he closed the gap between his fangs and her bleeding neck. His breath percolated over her skin, making her shiver with a numbing feeling.

His lips made contact with her skin and she hissed erratically when he made more punctures. He sucked on the blood while she screamed and writhed in failed attempts to get away.

Brooklyn's eyelids covered his eyes, long lashes tickled Arista's chin as he blinked. Her own eyes dilated in pain, darkened, making the navy meld with the amber flecks turning them into liquid pools of confusion. Was he really biting her?

She dug her fingernails into his skin, leaving small burns visible only upon closer inspection.

Brooklyn, lost in the coppery metallic scent of blood was doused with shock when Arista head butted him. She knocked her head into his, jutting his fangs away from her open, heavily bleeding abrasion.

Her hand shot to her neck in defense when he regained his footing. The predatory shimmer in his eyes was still visible. His eyes were a darker green, lush as freshly cut grass. His fangs glinted with a feral light marring his angelic face with a sinister tone that sent chills down her spine.

Arista breathed quite audibly. She was salvaging herself, locking the monster away inside of her. She slunk to the floor, her muscles quivering, going lax as the energy drained away from her for another time that day, or night. She still had no idea where she was, what time it was, or even what she was. Her face lowered so her chin rested millimeters away from her collar bone.

Her small lips were curved in disdain as she slowly lost consciousness. She was fighting a losing battle trying to figure anything out, she realized.

Brooklyn noticed the figure slumped against the wall. Because her power was so new and raw she had no control over it. He, being experienced, was much more skilled than Arista, who was currently exhausted with her new powers.

He crawled towards her, gently prodding her to wake up. When she stayed in her comatose state he panicked slightly.

"Shit!" He cursed aloud.

Arista's head turned a few inches so that she could see the blurry image of a red-head bent around her. Her sooty eyelashes wavered under the drowsiness of her mind. Groggily she mumbled something inaudible before shambling to a stop.

Eyebrows narrowed Brooklyn remembered the bite marks in her neck, absently rubbing soothing circles around the lacerations.

He'd done everything he wasn't supposed to. Inwardly he cursed himself and his stupidity.

His lips hovered over Arista's, he blew a soft breath at her, watching it fan out across her face before breathing life into the now cold body. A twinkle of red dust flew into her mouth, held open by his hand. He put his ear to her neck listening for any sound, watching her body for any flicker of movement.

A sudden thump had him recoiling.

No, he realised aptly, that was a heartbeat! She _was_ alive.

Not wanting to lose her again, he held one of her hands with his own, twining his fingers with hers. The other hand cupped her cheek gently, in a romantic fashion. In an instant his lips were crushed softly to hers as he breathed life into her once again.

He felt the sudden jolt of her under him, signaling she was indeed awake now.

--

Arista blinked wide-eyed, she was so lost and confused. Heat crept into her face as the soft warm lips probed hers with a gentle tongue.

With a small gasp at the situation her mouth parted, Brooklyn had taken the opening of her mouth as a sign to deepen the kiss. He pulled her closer to him, feeling full-well the heat that radiated off of her and onto him with a calming effect.

Arista felt a cool wind passing through her esophagus, going down to her throat to swirl around in her lungs, finally resting in her gut.

Brooklyn slowly parted from her, watching her face with light amusement. Her eyes were blinking rapidly, showing him the bold, beautiful eyes. Her peaches and cream complexion was marred by bruises and cuts he'd inflicted he noticed with a small pang of guilt. Her lips were open just a bit, as she ran her tongue over them slowly.

_What in the hell?_

He dropped his face to level his nose to hers, watching her shy away slightly. His mouth curved slightly in a smirk, his eyes turning a light pale blue, staring into her own navy orbs. The fear, confusion, and excitement was plainly visible in her eyes as he stared intensely reading her like an open book.

Arista stared, wide-eyed at the male in front of her. His ginger hair fell over his forehead in a playful manner. His lips were curved somewhat, revealing fangs glistening pearly white. Pale blue eyes stared at her with curiosity.

She suddenly realised the hand on her cheek and the one entwined with her own in a loose hold. Her eyes darted to the flickering of lights and she jumped suddenly in surprise.

Brooklyn tore his gaze away from those wide, frightened eyes wanting to comfort the silver haired Russian, instead he followed her stare to view the shimmery, bright lights flowing from their joined hands.

Looks like she was his soul mate.

His thumb tenderly rubbed her hand in a tranquil manner. His lips fell into an easy half-smile as he once again reclaimed her mouth in a powerful kiss.

Arista still shocked, sat there numbly, before her body reacted to him. She inclined her head slightly to give depth to the kiss. Her free hand ran its way up his arm and around the crook of his neck before it settled to play with the tiny hairs at the nape of it. She gave a catchy sigh as he queried her lips with his tongue.

She felt a warm sensation travel through her before it settled in the pit of her stomach, leaving her feeling warm and at ease.

She pulled away cautiously, staring into his eyes with uncertainty.

--

"Where is he?" Amber growled dangerously.

Her small form was clad in slightly baggy blue jeans flaring open at the bottom before they covered her very old sneakers. A blue t-shirt hung comfortably from her shoulders draping down her torso to her waist before stopping slightly above the hemline of her pants. Barely an inch of skin was visible as she huffed, marching in the direction of the lab. Her hair fell open to frame her heart-shaped face, spilling over her shoulders and around her neck. Anger radiated off of her in waves clearly affecting those around her as the tension mounted. Her small nose was flared, her eyebrows knit together, and her mouth set into a grim line.

She was on a mission to kill Brooklyn or at least severely injure him. Her ochre eyes darted down the hallway while she stood stock-still peering around, absently putting a hand to her hip in frustration.

She walked to the first door, poking her head in to view the surroundings. No, this room was empty. She closed it then glanced inside the second door upon opening it. No.

Several doors later she became irritated slamming doors closed in her annoyance. She'd gone through at least twenty doors but no Arista, no Brooklyn.

She panicked. If they weren't here were they with the council? No! She shoved these thoughts to the back of her mind and with a renewed energy she continued opening the doors going in the other direction. She yelled aloud, running while panic squeezed at her heart like a fist, clenching tighter when she couldn't find Arista.

"Ari?" She yelled aloud. "Can you hear me?"

Paranoid and angry, she slumped to the ground in defeat. Misery overwhelmed her as thoughts of Arista being killed engulfed her mind. Her ears buzzed and much to her dismay she felt tears prickling at the back of her eyes.

Her knees pulled up to her chest while she rested her chin on her knees, her arms covering her head.

Black, gold streaked hair fell into her eyes, she blew it out of the way before her whiskey orbs closed in dismay.

--

Mystel walked down the long hallway whistling an old tune cheerily. Worry etched on his face when he saw a small, hunched figure sitting against the wall sobbing.

He walked closer cautiously, then hurriedly sat down beside the female he now recognized as Amber.

"Hey.." His voice was optimistic even though there was no response.

A slender arm slung around the female to comfort her before his other hand lifted her chin in a tender hold to figure out why she appeared so sad.

"What's wrong?" He pushed hair away from her face and wiped tears from her cheeks. The saline liquid was wet and cold against his warm hand. Still the female didn't respond to him. Worried, he pulled her against his torso in a reassuring embrace. She hiccoughed into his chest and clutched to him for strength she was fighting to regain.

"I can't find her…"

Mystel, confused, proceeded to probe her for answers. "Can't find who?"

Amber's breath hitched and she shook her head. "I can't find her. Where is she? What did he do to her?" She wrapped herself tighter against his warmth. "I can't find Arista."

"What do you mean you can't find her? What happened?"

Amber wiped her eyes trying to control herself. She hated when people saw her when she felt so weak and childish. But she cared so much for Arista and she was so worried should something happen to her.

Mystel waited patiently for an answer. When he received none he scooped Amber into his lap while he comforted her with words of encouragement and sanguinity.

Eventually she fell asleep in his lap. His shirt was damp from her tears. Nonetheless He looked for Kai or Tala knowing that they would be able to better soothe the female.

--

Mr. Dickenson sighed wearily. He hadn't wanted to go through the 'Perfect Plan'. He would rather have used non-violent means to get what he wanted. Although with Boris there was no such thing as non-violent.

He grumbled, soon losing the heat in his thoughts when his eyes drooped sleepily. Stretching his legs, he yawned profusely before removing his slacks. He put down his walking stick. It was carved specially from cherry oak, finished with a clean polish. The head of the stick protruded from the rest of it, the lion's head easily recognizable as part of a family crest.

He removed his suit jacket, folding it neatly then placing it on the ottoman at the foot of his bed. He climbed into his bed raising the cover up to his neckline before falling asleep almost instantaneously.

--

Boris gave a rare show of emotion when he sneered at the sleeping form on the bed. His purple hair was spiked in the centre, separating into three strange mini Mohawks. His reddish purple eyes glinted with malice, his lips curved into a leer.

He was dressed in a white button-up shirt with long billowing sleeves. He stood tall and hunched as he stalked over to Dickenson. Long trousers adorned his insect-like legs.

His shadow loomed over the plump man sleeping peacefully on the bed. An abundant red covered the silken sheets. The same colour spread over the blanket.

Boris reached into his pants pocket to pull out a long syringe. He pricked it a little to test the waters. When a small sprinkle of clear liquid shot out he smirked slightly.

"Goodbye old man."

His bony hand hovered over the mouth of the older male, quickly clamping down on it with enough force to awaken the old man. If he had been alive that is.

The needle protruded from his neck, his blue eyes lost their twinkle, instead they were open, frozen with a dull luster.

He was dead.

With a sadistic pride, Boris turned the needle clockwise three time before swiftly and effectively removing it from the deceased mans neck.

If only all problems could be solved with the same amount of ease.

--

Kai walked up to the female huddled by Mystel. He heard the occasional whimper signaling him of her distress. His arms stretched around her, lifting her up and holding her bridal style. She looked up, her large eyes mystified by his kindness.

Mystel watched them go with relief knowing that Amber would be better once Kai explained the situation to her.

Said male didn't look at Amber, instead stared straight ahead as he continued to walk. He turned around the corner and nudged a door open with his foot.

His left hand was under the curve of Amber's knees, his right hand holding her shoulders while rubbing small soothing circles into her arm.

She smiled into his chest knowing he was being kind because of the situation. Still a small part of her wondered why he wasn't this nice to her all the time. She put her arms around his neck to steady herself, she gripped the broad plains of his back feeling his shoulders relax into her being.

Amber busied herself with playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck, her head resting on his shoulder.

She breathed peacefully before her eyelids fluttered down to close.

A serene look came down upon the boys facial features while he shifted to hold the female properly without dropping her. Her steady breathing and stable heartbeat told him she was asleep. He continued to rub her back soothingly as he would a small child to stop it from crying or becoming irritable.

A ghost of a smile flirted with his lips before he surveyed the familiar figures crouched around a bed. He couldn't see who it was but he got a feeling it was Arista.

On a bed opposite of said girl lay a ginger haired boy in a heap of discomfort. He was staring awkwardly around the room avoiding the accusatory glares he was shot by the group around the other bed.

Kai lay Amber down on a chair, watching her mew slightly before settling into the chair as he gently let go of her. He lay a kiss on top of her forehead when her eyes opened slightly. He rubbed her shoulder lightly before quietly shushing her with a murmur of words barely audible.

He walked over the surrounded bed raking his eyes over the disheveled female. She had several bruises and cuts. Bandages were wrapped around her body every so often as Kai ran his gaze over her, flinching slightly as he saw the blood-soaked bandages around her neck.

He quickly regained his composition before his hand reached down to hold Arista's in a gentle grip. Miyami sat opposite him, her eyes gazing intently at her cousin. She looked up at Kai, he gave a reassuring nod. She gave a weak smile before returning her eyes to the female on the bed.


End file.
